Women at War
by Poppy Pineapple
Summary: Arthur is King and his brother Prince Henry marries Anne Boleyn. But Anne is determined to bring the Reformation to England and Katherine is equally determined to destroy her in order to preserve the true faith. See how the power struggle unfolds as courtiers, particularly one Jane Seymour, are caught up in the crossfire and are used as pawns in order to bring the other woman down.
1. The Duchess of York

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Tudors, only my own characters and the storyline.

**Author's Note:** Please don't get worked up if you feel a character you like is being unfairly portrayed, all of my characters are going to have flaws and bad sides to them because I want to make them human. Also all physical characteristics and personalities are based on characters from the series, not their historical counterparts. I hope you enjoy and reviews will be warmly welcomed.

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_1526_

Anne Boleyn walked down the aisle of Westminster Abbey, arm in arm with her snow haired father. Her own hair, which was as dark as the midnight sky, hung loosely down her back and was capped with a sparkling tiara of silver and diamonds. A gift from her soon-to-be husband who had inherited it upon his mother's death, intended as a gift for his future bride.

Anne was slow and graceful as she floated down the aisle, making sure that everyone had plenty of time to admire her and her beautiful gown of silver velvet and damask. She had wanted to wear gold but she had been told numerous times that gold was a colour reserved for the Queen, a fact that she accepted in her usual sulking manner. Purple, she had argued, was the colour associated with royalty, not gold. But they were adamant on the matter and so she resigned herself to silver.

"Silver is far more befitting. I've always found gold to be vulgar any way" she had stated as though the suggestion for a gold wedding dress had come from another. Her ladies and dress maker merely rolled their eyes and played along with her little game.

She no longer cared.

She was getting married. She was the centre of attention. She was marrying into royalty and would be the most important woman in the Kingdom. After Queen Katherine and her daughters of course. But soon those snooty ladies she had once had to curtsey to would now be curtseying to her. She felt almost drunk on the power. She had plans for them, yes great plans. For herself, her family but most of all for England.

That is not to say that Anne was not marrying her husband for love. It had taken six months of being harassed and pestered by Henry Tudor, the Duke of York, before she finally gave into his advances and allowed him to pay court to her. She had previously been in love with Harry Percy for years but she had quickly grown to realise that it would not come to fruitation despite the couple's passionate feelings towards each other. His family and even the great Cardinal Wolsey disapproved of their union for unknown reasons and had managed to persuade the weak willed Harry into giving Anne up and marrying a more worthier candidate, leaving Anne to nurse a broken heart. But barely a season had passed before she encountered King's Arthur's handsome younger brother and she had managed to captivate him entirely.

At first she found it annoying that Prince Henry kept chasing after her like a little lost puppy, pinning after her and writing her pathetic proses proclaiming his undying love for her. What's more, she was angry he was taking such great lengths to harass her when it was rumoured that he would soon be marrying a French princess for diplomatic reasons. After all, she had her reputation to think about. She convinced herself it was only a silly infatuation on his part and that he was trying to worm his way into her bed, just like the French King had done with her sister. But she eventually came to realise that he loved her for more purer reasons than she had originally believed.

He loved her for being herself.

She wasn't like other women. She had a brain and wasn't afraid to use it. She had opinions and dared to voice them. And she didn't conform. Whilst other ladies at court wore stuffy English fashions and stiff gable hoods she flounced about in the latest Venetian and Parisian gowns her father had acquired for her on his travels. And most shocking of all, she dared to read forbidden books. She had a ferocious appetite for knowledge and spent hours at a time reading banned books that had to be smuggled into the the country. It was even rumoured that she was a Lutheran and was preaching her gospel to Prince Henry. And all this made Henry love her even more because she was her own person. She was unconventional and didn't care what anyone had to say about it.

But the qualities that made Anne so intriguing to Henry were qualities that made the deeply pious Queen Katherine despair about their union.

"Why do you look on so sternly, my love? It is meant to be a joyous occasion" King Arthur observed as he glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw that his wife was glaring at the approaching bride, her jaw tightening considerably as though she were grinding her teeth together.

"I find little to rejoice about" was Katherine's cold reply, her eyes never leaving Anne as she walked past her. She observed how the candle light bounced off the back of her metallic coloured dress and caused it to shimmer like tiny little stars, making her look even more like the celestial heavens against the backdrop of her dark hair.

Anne had reached the foot of the altar now, and Thomas Boleyn had bowed his head to the Prince before placing his daughter's hand within Henry's. He leant in and kissed his daughter affectionately upon the cheek, but before parting with his daughter forever he shot her a look. A proud smirk. Katherine's keen hawk eyes caught the smirk and she began to ponder upon it. Was this a happy pride, knowing that his beloved child had secured herself a happy, comfortable marriage with a man who adored her. Or was it that the overly ambitious father could now claim kin to royalty and be free to manipulate the fickle prince, who in turn could easily manipulate his doting brother the King? She thought the latter sounded the most plausible and her heart dropped into her stomach at the idea.

"Why is that?" Arthur enquired, not out of ignorance, for he knew right well that his wife detested the Boleyn girl.

He purposely wished to goad her for ruining the happy atmosphere at such a joyous event. It was his brother's wedding and Henry had the great privilege of marrying for love. He envied him for being able to have the choice to pick his own bride, but he did not resent him for it. He was happy that his brother's life was not dictated by the stern rules and regulations that controlled what a King could or could not do. And Arthur certainly did not want his brother's special day to be ruined by jealous women like his wife who felt threatened by a pretty and spirited girl like Anne, who in truth Arthur was quite fond of.

Arthur fully believed that the true root of Katherine's dislike for Anne stemmed through jealousy, though he was sure that if he had confronted her on the matter she would have vehemently denied it.

She was jealous that Anne was young and so was capable of producing sons for her husband, a duty that Katherine herself had failed in, though she had produced three beautiful daughters who were stood beside them now, admiring how perfectly splendid Anne's wedding gown was. She was jealous that Anne was pretty and vivacious, with her long ebony hair and her captivating blue eyes that could stop a man in their tracks. She was jealous that her smile could seduce any man into doing her bidding, that she was lively and sprightly upon her feet, especially when she was dancing.

Although Katherine had been an infamous beauty during her youth, and Arthur swore to this day that he had never witnessed a more beautiful woman than her on her wedding day, time was beginning to catch up with her and her looks were starting to fade. Her thick, jet black hair was now beginning to thin out and was streaked with grey. Her once flawless and perfectly smooth face was shrivelling with wrinkles. Big purple bags covered half of her face whilst crows feet had marked the edge of her now lacklustre eyes. Her figure had swollen, her breasts had drooped and she found that she could barely seduce her husband any more, never mind the handsome young courtiers that seemed to follow Anne about like dogs to their master.

In truth there were probably countless reasons as to why the Queen had taken a dislike to Anne Boleyn, for they were as different as night and day. Katherine was mild mannered, regal and pious. She spent hours kneeling in prayer or confession and her rosary or crucifix was her accessory of choice. Anne in the meanwhile, was all fire and wind. She had an explosive temper, a sharp tongue and was always on the go; whether she was hunting, watching the joust or dancing deep into the night. There was no stopping her. But the true reason for Katherine's unrelenting hatred towards the girl, at least this what she told herself every time she tried to justify the sin of anger in her prayers, was regarding religion.

"You know very well the rumours that are circulating about...about...**that** girl" she could not even bear to speak her name. To her, it was as if the name Anne Boleyn was the most foul and evil curse word imaginable.

"And what rumours might they be?" Arthur further feigned ignorance, and he could see Katherine growing tenser all the while as she tried to suppress her fury.

"That she is a heretic" she whispered loud enough to be heard by her three daughters, who had startled and looked at their mother as if to enquire "who is a heretic, Mama?"

"There is no proof that she is a heretic" Arthur defended the girl who was currently unable to defend herself. She was too busy staring deeply into her love's eyes as he spoke his vows to her and proclaimed undying love. "Why should it even bother you?"

"I will not suffer a heretic in my court"

"Harry loves her, and so I will love her. As will you" was his diplomatic reply, though it was less of a request and more of an order.

_You will love her like a sister or else will suffer the consequences_ was what he was saying to her in plain terms.

Yes, he had an affection for the girl. He couldn't quite place his finger upon why he liked her, but he knew he liked her all the same. And if Harry loved her, Arthur would grow to love her too and he would treat her as if she was his own sister. This would be a great protection from would be enemies who might try to bring her down.

If Katherine chose to follow up on her vendetta against the Boleyns, she knew she would find herself alone for Arthur would do everything in his power to stop her from causing harm to Henry and his loved ones. But deep down Arthur already knew that things would never get that far. Katherine might be a passionate woman with firm beliefs and opinions, but she was nothing less than the perfect Queen. She would never reveal her true feelings or make a spectacle of herself in private, never mind in public. Sure, there might be the odd cold word or look aimed in the general direction of the Boleyns, but they would bear it well enough and life would go on as usual. Katherine was too gracious to stoop to the level of a common factional courtier.

She expelled a silent sigh and the let the matter come to an end, begrudgingly watching as Anne made her vows to love, honour and obey her husband. And as she did so, Katherine began to gather her all her emotions regarding the girl and started to push these vindictive personal feelings down into the depths of her subconscious, to fester there deep inside of her like some terminal disease. In truth she knew she was being irrational about the girl, but she could not stand that a heretic was to become royalty. And what if she managed to convert Henry into her way of thinking?

Sure, Henry was a grown man and knew his own mind well enough, but he was also open to new ideas and modern ways of thinking. He was easy to manipulate, as seen by the company he kept in Charles Brandon, Anthony Knivert and even Cardinal Wolsey, whom he loved like a father. They were all masters in the art of manipulation, and all you had to do win Henry over was to make him believe it was his idea first. Katherine also knew that he was a hopeless romantic and would walk on water to please his lady love. Would Henry really be so weak minded in regards to his God and faith? Katherine prayed endlessly that he would not, but her head was telling her that it was entirely possible.

The ceremony was followed by a day of pageants, feasting and finally dancing. The whole court was merry, for their had not been a royal wedding in England since that of the King and Queen's, well over 25 years ago. Even Katherine had managed to cheer up as she sat upon her throne, sipping her specially imported wine from Spain and taking great delight in watching her husband dance with her ladies-in-waiting whilst she tapped her foot in time to the tempo of the music. Her only regret in growing old was that she was no longer the fine dancer she used to be, and her sore leg prevented her from ever becoming too active in times like these.

Finally, it was time for the toast. Arthur rose up from his throne, a little worst for drink, and he began to speak about how much he loved his younger brother, and that he has never seen Henry look as happy as when he is with Anne. He wished them a long and happy life together, filled with love and many children, though he diplomatically avoided using the word 'sons' in case he offended Katherine. And as he came to the conclusion of his speech, he lifted his golden chalice from off the table in front of him and thrust it up into the air, spilling half of it's burgundy contents all over the floor.

"To Henry and Anne" he toasted and then proceeded to take a hearty gulp of the sweet wine.

"TO HENRY AND ANNE!" the rest of the court chorused in a similar drunken manner, and they too rose from the chairs and lifted their goblets into the air whilst cheering and clinking their cups together in celebration for the newly wedded couple. But by this time, every one was too drunk to have noticed that the newly weds had slipped off unnoticed into their bedchamber to spend their first night as husband and wife in each other's arms.


	2. Fury

**Author's Note:**_ A great big thank you to everyone who left me a review, they are well appreciated! Check out my profile if you're interested in seeing my cast for Women at War and tell me what you think. I'm also having a change of heart for the title, feel free to vote on the poll on my profile and vote which title you think is the best._

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_Summer 1527_

It was with great honour and delight that Prince Henry accepted the invitation from his brother to dine with the King and the Queen in their private apartments. But being the ever doting husband, he was insistent that his invitation was extend to include his wife and Arthur was only too happy to accommodate to his needs. Katherine, on the other hand, was less than thrilled with the prospect of having to endure a whole evening with that poisonous witch whom she was forced to call her sister-in-law.

The time for supper had come upon them and both Arthur and Katherine waited patiently for their guests to arrive. Henry always did like to be fashionably late, Arthur thought, and God only knew what Anne's preening habits consisted of when she was preparing herself for such an event.

A good forty minutes later than what was agreed, Henry and Anne walked in, her hand floating gently over his as though she were too noble to let another person touch her. Henry gave a quick bow at the head to his brother, whilst Anne fell into a deep and graceful curtsey at his feet. Katherine could not help but roll her eyes at this overdramatic gesture and it was not the first time in her life that she began to regard the girl as a brown noser. But Arthur, ever the chivalric knight, quickly raised her to her feet and reminded her, for what felt like the fiftieth time, that such things were not required from her in private. She was his dear friend and as good as his sister. Anne merely nodded her head at him and thanked him for such courtesy.

But because of this low level of formalities between the King and his sister-in-law, Anne had decided to use this courtesy to her own advantage. Whilst custom would have required her to have also curtseyed to the Queen, Anne decided that she would not oblige the woman with such respect. It was no secret that the Queen disliked Anne Boleyn, or indeed any Boleyn or Howard at court. It had not gone unnoticed that the Queen only spoke to Anne when it was absolutely necessary. And when Katherine did oblige her with conversation, she spoke to her in a cold, forced manner that failed to disguise the utter contempt she harboured for the girl. She had also reserved her frostiest of looks especially for her.

But none of this bother Anne in the slighted. She had put up with worst and was brought up to be thick skinned and stone hearted. Her father had told her many times that people would hate her by association, for both sides of her family were rich and powerful and this would subsequently earn her their disdain. Her mother had warned her that women would envy her because she was bold and beautiful, and so they would hate her because it would be she who would have men flock around her, and not them. And her brother told her that many men would feel threatened by her because she had all the charm of a lady but the mind and ambitions of a man. A deadly combination.

But as long as Henry still loved her, that was all that she needed in the world. And she could certainly play the Queen at her own game.

She whisked past Katherine without so much as a glance at her, and lowered herself gracefully into the chair at the right hand side of the King. This chair was usually reserved for Henry but Henry did not seem to mind and merely plonked himself into the chair opposite her. Arthur took his rightful seat at the head of the table, and Anne immediately set about conversing with him as though they were old childhood friends.

"I must compliment you on your dress, sister. It becomes you very well" Arthur announced and Anne feigned a coy smile as she looked down bashfully at her gown and replied.

"What? This old thing?"

This gown was red, much like the others, for it seemed the young Duchess had a penchant for the colour.

Scarlett, crimson, burgundy, vermillion, maroon.

She loved them all and the colours seemed to emphasise her passionate and fiery personality. The neckline of the gown was outrageously low cut and the corset was so tight it appeared to be in danger of bursting open at any moment. She had purposely had it laced up so tight so that it would accentuate her chest, for as Henry often teased her, she had very small duckies indeed. The suggestiveness of the gown did not surprise Katherine in the slightest, for she knew that Anne was a lover of French fashion and the French were so very immodest. The bodice was adorn in gold embroidery and bejewelled with a dozen little rubies, no bigger than the size of a pea. The rubies caught and reflected the light in the room making them appear like hot embers, and this, along with the swirling pattern of the embroidery upon the bodice, made Anne's dress appear as though she were on fire.

Katherine thought to herself that she looked no better than a painted whore, but it seemed to be having the desired effect upon the men in the room who could not keep their eyes off the young slut. And Katherine also observed how Anne continued to wear her hair loose and uncovered, despite now being married. Perhaps she would teach her a lesson and send her a gable hood as a gift. She knew that she would not be able to reject the present and would be required to wear it at least once as a sign of good will. She couldn't help but emit a little chuckleas she imagined the girl trudging about the palace in a gabled hood with a sour look upon her face.

Arthur had raised an eyebrow at response to his wife's little titter as the servants proceeded to serve dinner, bringing in plate after silver plate of delicious meats and vegetables. Katherine merely brushed the amusing image into the back of her mind and returned his gaze with a loving smile as picked up a silver fork from off the table. She was famished and couldn't wait to eat.

An hour later, and supper was done with. The quartet were now lounging about in their chairs, stuffed to high heaven upon rich and delicious food that had gone down a treat. They were deep in conversation now, at least Anne was. She was boasting about her time in France, how she was an expert on French culture and further flattering the King by naming the many ways in which the English court was superior than the French one. Katherine, in the mean time, sat silently as she listened keenly to all that was being said around her.

She was waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

And the opportunity rose when Anne began to brag about translating biblical passages from Latin into English for a past time.

She had her now!

"Not that I have much spare time any more. The life of a Duchess is quite busy, don't you know" Anne stated in a rather important manner, much to the amusement of Henry and Arthur.

"So Lady Anne, I hear you are of Lutheran sympathies?" Katherine inquired, finally opening her mouth for the first time since dinner.

"I would not say Lutheran, Madam. But I do agree that the church has lost it's way and turned into a financial establishment rather than a spiritual haven" was Anne's deliberated reply. She had to be careful of what she said for she knew well enough that all walls have ears and her enemies would gladly enjoy taking her words out of context.

"Financial establishment? Whatever do you mean?" Katherine could not help but chuckle at this expression. The girl was obviously clueless on matters of an ecclesiastical nature. She might have read many books on theology and philosophy, but it appeared she did not understand their meaning. Katherine couldn't wait to be able to show her up for the ignoramus that she really was.

"You mean to say, your Majesty, that you do not believe there is corruption in our churches?" Anne challenged in her usual condescending manner, deciding to rise to the challenge that Katherine was setting up for her. She was an eloquent speaker and a master debater, just as her father had raised her to be. She could argue just as well as any lawyer and she fancied her chances at outsmarting a Queen. She continued,

"Where priests sell indulgences to the highest bidder and get fat from the profits? Where nuns and monks openly break their vows of chastity and flaunt their bastards in front of their parishoners?" she was about to list a dozen more discrepancies that were running rife in the church and diseasing the word of God, but Katherine cut her off rather sharply.

"For every bad clergyman there are a ten good ones" she contended in a rather blunt tone. Anne couldn't help but smirk at the Queen. She knew she was hitting a nerve.

"I do not doubt that there are good, honest people in the church whose sole reason for joining the cloth was because of pure love for our Lord, God. But unfortunately, as is usually the case, the truly pure at heart are often the ones who are not well educated. And then it becomes an endless cycle of the ignorant teaching the ignorant. If the bible were in English, the common people could read the bible themselves and have a better understanding of what the priests preach. Why must mass be read in Latin when only a privileged few can understand such an ancient language?"

"That smacks of heresy, my lady" Katherine coldly warned her as she reached out for her shimmering goblet of gold and brought it up to her lips. She hoped that the cool, refreshing liquid of the wine might help to cool her own temper, which was fast getting the better of her because of this impertinent girl.

"I will have no talk of heresy here" the almost fading presence of Arthur chimed in, aiming his words at both ladies although he was looking at his wife as he spoke. He shot her a dangerous look, a look that Katherine deeply resented. Her pride now wounded, she somewhat retreated into herself and busied herself by taking several sips from her goblet.

Arthur then turned his attention towards Henry and Anne, and his hard features softened considerably at the sight of them.

"I believe you are right, Lady Anne. It is up to **us** to enlighten the masses and ensure that the churches are being governed in a befitting manner. You have given me a lot to think about, and I thank you for your honesty and passion" he smiled warmly at her.

"It is I who is thankful, Majesty" she gushed with false gratitude as she shot her rival a victorious smirk.

You do not argue with a Boleyn and win. It is impossible.

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"Who does she think she is?" Anne fumed as she paced back and forth in their bedchamber whilst Henry was unclasping the buttons of his doublet.

"The Queen of England?" he questioned in a humourous manner in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere but Anne was in no mood for jokes and spun around on her heel, casting him a poisonous look. Her usually sparkling sapphire eyes, that she used so freely to enchant and seduce, had lost all of their appeal now and Henry could feel the chill from her icy stare.

Luckily for him she was too worked up about Katherine to pay attention to his own faults and soon she was pacing about the apartment again, mumbling and grumbling under her breath.

"And she dares to call **me** a heretic? She who lived in a Moorish palace and consorted with Moorish servants. I bet she dallied with a few heathens in her time" Anne couldn't help but chuckle viciously as she imagined Katherine in the arms of a blackened Moor in the gardens of the Alhambra. And the more she thought about it, the more she was determined that if Katherine should launch another scathing attack against her again in future, she would retaliate with a smear campaign and ruin her perfectly precious reputation that she held so dear to her heart.

But Henry was fast believing that the matter between the Queen and his wife was getting out of hand and decided he had to nip it in the bud before things began to spiral out of control.

"Enough! I will not have you speak in such a way about the Queen" he shouted with all the authority of a King.

The volume and tone of Henry's voice caused Anne to startle slightly. She knew that Henry was capable of an explosive temper but he had never dared raise his voice to her before. What was the matter with him anyway, she thought. Why was he so bothered about Katherine? His wife's name was Anne, not Katherine! Why should he care so much about her? And as soon as she had recovered from the shock of his harsh tone, she turned on him and gave him a piece of her mind.

"I am your wife! You are meant to stand by me, not sit idly by and let others abuse me as **she** did" she yelled just as fiercely as he had done towards her. She had lost all composure now and spittle was flying through the air as she gave her husband a verbal lashing that he would not forget any time soon. Her eyes were glowering. They were almost demonic.

Henry often thought to himself that there was a little bit of Devil within Anne.

"I am on no one's side" he tried to reassure her, but Anne was having none of it.

"And do not think I am ignorant as to why" she spat, "Every person in the kingdom knew you were enamoured with Katherine as a youth. There were poems and limericks about you pining after her like a dog in heat. And you love her still, don't you!" Her eyes began to glisten dangerously as they welded up with newborn tears. Her bottom lip was trembling, but whether it was out of sorrow or anger, Henry could not tell, and he didn't want to provoke his temperamental wife all the more.

"I am not having this conversation" he stated cooly, although it took all his will power to keep himself so calm. More than once he was tempted to throw his wash basin at her or overturn the table in a fit of rage, but he managed to restrain himself thanks to some carefully remembered words from his brother's councillors, More and Wolsey. "I will come back in the morning and speak to you when you are less hysterical" and with that he made his way towards the exit.

"Where are you going? Answer me! You cannot do this to me. I am your wife, you are meant to love me, to honour me. Or do you take your vows as lightly as your women?" she accused, hoping to re-engage him in an argument in an effort to make him stay.

But Henry only heard the first part of her comment, for he had left their bedchamber midway through her rant and had closed the door behind him. Anne threw herself on to the bed and buried her head into one of the plump, goose feather pillows. She couldn't believe he had walked out on her. She couldn't believe he had used such harsh words against her. And his tone was nothing short of barbaric.

Hysterical?

She?

He was deluded. And manipulative on top of that as well. She noted how he had never denied that he had been in love with Katherine as a young man. What if he was still in love with her now? Hot tears began to trickle down her cheek freely as she imagined her husband and the Queen embracing like lovers. It made her blood boil. She had hated Katherine before, but now she truly despised her.

Well, she thought, I will soon see Katherine pushed off her perch. See if I don't!

* * *

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the King's bedchamber was not much different from that of the Duke's. Katherine was sat up in her bed, waiting patiently for the right moment to confront her husband. She had already changed into her nightgown and had said her prayers twice over before Arthur had decided to grace her with his presence. And during this time, she had been quietly simmering away as she contemplated about how cruelly she had been treated at dinner. Not only had Arthur humiliated her, but it had been in front of her most despised enemy too.

Arthur undressed silently with his back towards his wife in an effort to avoid her judgemental gaze. He knew he had been overly harsh to her in his efforts to maintain the peace between two bickering women, and he was sorry that he had seemingly picked sides. But he was a proud man, and he was too stubborn to apologise for his lax in judgement and sensitivity. Yet even with his back turned towards her, he could still sense her eyes boring into the back of his head, penetrating his very soul.

"I cannot believe you let her speak so freely upon such sacred matters" Katherine finally announced, having seemingly grown impatient at how slowly her husband was taking in preparing himself for bed. Her tone was not harsh or angry, but betrayed how hurt and resentful she was feeling.

"Oh Katherine, be at ease" he sighed, having been waiting for this argument for the past couple of hours. That was why he had taken so long in retiring to bed. He had hoped that she would be asleep by the time he came into the room, but no such luck it would seem. "She is young. At that age you think you know how to solve all the world's problems. It is rather refreshing to hear such optimistic hope over cynicism and bitterness" Arthur had tried to explain, but it appeared to have fallen upon deaf ears.

"Do you love her?" she had dared to ask, although now her gaze had fallen on to her lap, as though she were scared to hear his answer.

"What?"

His reaction was one half of disbelief at such an accusation, and yet also one of humour, for he could not help but laugh a little at his wife's paranoia. What silly creatures these women are, Arthur thought to himself as he walked towards the bed in an effort to placate the woman.

"I would not be vexed if you are in with love her, only please tell me if you are for I would like to no where I stand" she insisted, rather too understanding for Arthur's comfort. And now it was Arthur's time to be outraged.

"How could you ever think I would fall in love with my brother's wife?" he inquired, in a hurt manner. But had this accusation hit home?

In all of their twenty-five years of marriage, he had only been unfaithful to her once. When she was pregnant with their middle child, Marian, he had found that he had needs that could not be fulfilled by his now heavily pregnant wife and so sought comfort in the arms of another. Her name was Anna, and she was the sister of the Duke of Buckingham. She was a beautiful lady with a face as delicate as that of a kitten's, and her flirtatious and playful nature made a welcomed change from his stiff and perfectly pious wife. But as soon as little Marian was born, Arthur found it harder and harder to justify his affair with Anna and so he gave her up for the good of his wife, banishing her to the countryside. But sometimes he had wondered, what would life have been like if he had kept Anna as a mistress. What would life have been like if it had a little fun in it every now and then, and he did not have to be suffocated by his wife's piety and soberness.

Some times, especially during Christmas and Lent when Katherine was most insufferable in her piety, he had been sorely tempted to take a mistress and seek a bit of comfort elsewhere. But every time he cast his eye around the court he was only disappointed in what he saw. Young ladies who were no better than whores. The likes of Bessie Blount, Madge Sheldon and even the Duchess of York's own sister, Mary Boleyn. He didn't want a whore who would spread her legs at the sight of a sparkling jewel. He wanted a lady to woo and win like a knight of old. He didn't want another man's leftovers. He wanted to seduce a woman who had eyes for no other but him. And she couldn't just be another pretty face. She had to be intelligent and witty and virtuous. Someone who he could converse with intelligently and yet make him feel like the young man he was deep in his heart.

In truth, he wanted someone like Anne, but the more he thought about it, the more he pushed it to the back of his mind.

Yes, someone **like** Anne. Just not Anne herself, he kept reminding himself.

And then he pondered his feelings about Katherine. He still loved her, and supposed he always would do for they had been married for over half of their lives. But these days it only seemed he loved her out of duty. He was no longer actually **in** love with her. The passion in their marriage had fizzled out long ago and he began to regard her as he did with his daughters. Surely that was not a sign of a healthy marriage.

But he pretended differently to her face. He continued to placate her with honeyed words and affectionate gestures. A "sweetheart" here, a "darling" there. He pledged his undying devotion towards her and her alone. He swore he could never look at another woman in such a way (which was true enough because there were no tempting women at court these days) and how his heart was her's alone. He was so convincing in his performance that she was soon placated and had curled up in the crook of his arm as she settled herself down to sleep.

But Arthur remained wide awake, troubling himself over the thought that he no longer loved his wife the way he ought to.


End file.
